


ieud

by cecilcb



Category: Star Trek
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Emotional Confusion, M/M, POV Spock (Star Trek), Probable Overuse of the Word Fascinating, Slow Build, ish
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-28
Updated: 2019-09-28
Packaged: 2020-10-29 14:56:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,041
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20798468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cecilcb/pseuds/cecilcb
Summary: Forming relationships is not the reason that Spock joined Starfleet, but that doesn't mean it isn't an unwelcome development when he's posted aboard theUSS Enterprise.





	ieud

**Author's Note:**

> This should be posted in three parts. It's something I've had sitting for a few months. It's technically not entirely written yet, however I know where everything is going. I've messed with times and ranks and stuff, I know. It's for the sake of story telling.
> 
> Written from Spock's PoV, so the writing tone is different than I'm used to writing. What happened happened, and I accidentally ended up with this.
> 
> You can find me on Tumblr with my URL chckov. I am in university and honestly struggling with it, but that actually is why I started writing this again. It will probably affect my posting slightly, but I'm looking to update once a week if that is humanly possible for me. Otherwise, enjoy. And if you don't enjoy, that's okay too, but I'd appreciate if you didn't outwardly kill me for it.
> 
> Title is Hebrew for Destiny - the good kind of destiny.

ONE  
The transport shuttle Spock is expected on is set to close the bay doors in ten minutes to the second. His current assignment: make sure everybody meant to aboard is accounted for, including himself. This shuttle is part of the final group to be arriving aboard the station where the _USS Enterprise_ is currently docked, ready to depart for her first mission. Most of her crew would be arriving today, the only people who had been aboard the ship in the past few days being Captain Pike and a few engineers who were making sure things were in working order.

With such little time before departure, few people - six, to be exact - were missing. It’s little of a real concern; the shuttle wouldn’t be leaving until its intended time either way. And, in Spock’s experience, as limited as it is having only been on one other mission aboard a starship, some people make work to draw out their time on the ground as long as possible. Fortunately for them, Spock has no issue waiting outside the shuttle until the last crew member arrives, his patience likely a key factor in his being tasked with a job often found as menial.

Four minutes pass. Three people arrive: Lieutenant Gaila, Ensign Hoffner, and Ensign Thompson. As soon as their names were checked off on his list, they disappeared inside. Not even a minute passes when an Ensign Babini comes rushing up, almost as an afterthought, joining the other three inside the shuttle with haste, and leaving only two others to arrive.

It takes two and a half more minutes for the final two, Lieutenant Commander Kirk and Lieutenant McCoy, to arrive, deep in conversation with each other before abruptly cutting off to check in with Spock. With a curt nod, Spock directs them inside.

PADD in hand, Spock looks over the list of names on final time, more out of habit of “double checking” his work for the sake of human advisors, before submitting that everybody has arrived. As he walks inside himself, he pushes the button to close the opening latch, locking it into an airtight seal. As he walks to the only open seat left inside - one right at the front row - he scans those already seated, making sure everybody has their safety belts secured across their chests. 

Once satisfied with his surroundings, Spock takes his seat.

Many of the crew is conversing in some way, whether with introductions or talk that suggests familiarity between each other. As they will all be co-existing in close quarters with each other, Spock sees this as positive behaviour.

However, such conversations cease for the most part when an overhead announcer informs of their imminent departure, quickly followed by the silent hum of the engine increasing to more of a buzz that can be felt underfoot.

In the more silent environment, Spock can pick up on the man behind him speaking, one of very few.

“Jim, I swear to g-d, if anything happens while we’re out there, and I mean _anything_ \- I better not catch some alien virus - I will personally strangle you with my own two bare hands. And that extends to you too. So much as a scratch and I will be on your ass faster than you can ‘ow’. I will be on your ass. I don’t like space, never have, and you know it! How you managed to drag me all the way out here-”

A curious thing for a Starfleet officer to be saying, especially right before leaving Earth for a mission meant to bring them throughout deep space for five years. As an instructor at the Academy, Spock has seen his share of people who are scared of going out into space like this, whether for a logical reason or, as he has been told is a proper response for things such as this, “just because”. Most of these people, however, tend to get over this fear before leaving for their space assignments - or they will find positions that don’t require their extended presence upon starships.

While Spock finds the declaration to be most peculiar, the person who responds doesn’t seem surprised in the least.

“C’mon Bones, this’ll be fun! The two of us, in space.”

“Oh I’m imagining it all right. And you know what I see? The two of us. In space. _Dead_.”

Spock draws his eyebrows together for a second. This phobia experienced by a man set to be aboard the _Enterprise_ should not be entertained so lightly. Straightening his facial features, Spock turns the best as he can around his restraints to peer behind him, straining his neck to meet the sight of an obviously anxious Lieutenant McCoy sitting next to Lieutenant Commander Kirk, who has a smile that speaks nothing of the grim ideas his partner is speaking of.

As the soon to be First Officer of the ship, it is Spock’s responsibility to make sure his crew members aren’t experiencing any issues. “Lieutenant,” he starts, voice just loud enough to be heard clearly, “death aboard the _Enterprise_ is highly improbable. It is the newest Constitution class flagship that the Federation is deploying, and is not meant to be encountering any scenarios which a medical officer should be getting injured in, let alone something that could lead to loss of life.”

Lieutenant Commander Kirk lets out a choked laugh besides the Lieutenant, showing nothing but obvious enjoyment in the current situation. Quite peculiar with the rather extreme ideals his friend holds.

Lieutenant McCoy, at the very least, has enough mind to look thrown off by the sudden interjection, eyes widened in shock as he looks to Spock. He doesn’t respond to Spock’s statement however.

So Spock decides to speak again, eyebrows partially drawing together again in an attempt to display concern for the medical officer. “If you indeed are experiencing such fears of death, perhaps you should see a counselor about the issue. However, I can assure you that there is little concern towards your wellbeing, and therefore, your fears should be expelled.”

The Lieutenant continues to look at Spock with a dumbfounded look on his face before slowly taking in a louder breath than normal, making a face before turning to Lieutenant Commander Kirk with a shrug and turning back to Spock. “Uh, yeah,” he says, acting as if unsure of what to say to Spock.

Without any other input from the other end, Spock has nothing else to say, no other way to continue a one-sided talk, so he nods and turns back around to look ahead, waiting for the shuttle to take off.

From behind, Spock can still hear Lieutenant Commander Kirk laughing a little. “You just got told by a Vulcan,” he whispers between giggles, amusement clear in his voice. Spock chooses not to respond.

Not long after, the shuttle lifts with a strong, shaky propulsion, starting a steady ascent into the sky. The flight itself is uneventful, small chatter arising from those seated after a few minutes, though Spock can’t help but fixate upon the excited, fast talking of Lieutenant Commander Kirk talking seemingly mindlessly to the Lieutenant.

Excessive, thoughtless speaking as such can indicate nervousness in a human. For all the exuberance given out, perhaps the Lieutenant Commander is nervous as well - or he could be attempting to calm the nerves of his friend.

Either way, the behaviour, Spock finds, is intriguing, especially in how it proceeds right up until the shuttle lands once more.

As soon as the solid _thud_ indicating touchdown resonates, people are unbuckling themselves, eager to leave their seats. Spock follows suit, clicking to unharness himself and stand amongst some of the people who he will be spending the following five years with in outer space.

He can’t say he feels excitement or trepidation - really, he feels nothing spectacular about the situation. It is what it is, and that is an assignment that he will carry out to the best of his abilities.

The officer piloting the shuttle makes his appearance from the cockpit, nodding at those she passes as she makes her way to the door that will be their exit. Spock himself stands to watch, waiting for her signal to him. Excitement and nerves run through the air, eyes following her. When she meets his eyes, he straightens his back, hands clasped behind his back.

Only two people have their eyes on him as he starts speaking, voice ringing through the shuttle. “All of you are to report to Bay 11,” he says, slowly gaining the attention of the other fidgeting future crew members. “There, you will find people in red shirts holding PADDs. Each will have lists of names, grouping people into places to report to and, in some cases, tasks to be completed. In an orderly fashion, please report to them. I expect this to be done in a prompt manner.”

And with that, the pilot is opening the doors. Those onboard start to filter out in a rather disorganized manner. Spock lingers behind, following out the last person with a nod to the pilot. She smiles back at him and gives a mock solute.

➢

It’s impossible to miss Captain Pike when entering the bridge. Starfleet did well in granting him the captaincy of their newest flagship, his presence a sure, commanding one. Spock would be lying if he were to say he didn’t respect the man, and Vulcans don’t make a habit of lying.

Spock, on the other hand, has many times been told he has a cat-like presence, often times slipping into scenes unnoticed by those until he announces himself in some way. So when he reaches the bridge, he doesn’t expect an immediate reaction for anybody, obviously appearing in the middle of a conversation between the Captain and Lieutenant Commander Kirk. Spock makes note of the latter’s presence on the bridge, but doesn’t have time to dwell on it before the conversation is cut short, and Captain Pike is turning to him with a large half-grin on his face, stopping him before he can get past with a large hand clapping him on the shoulder.

“Commander Spock,” he greets, amiable enough.

Spock admits that, while he did minor readings on his new captain, he didn’t go much in depth beyond his competency and past regarding missions for Starfleet. Never once in such articles did it mention him being one for much physical contact. Spock doesn’t let himself be surprised by this, as such is the way of humans. It should have been expected, even if his previous captain was more one for physical boundaries.

Without missing a heartbeat, Spock responds with a, “Captain Pike.”

“This here is Lieutenant Commander James T. Kirk,” Pike introduces, his free hand waving to display the man, who’s keeping a comfortable stance on the ground. “He is one of the ship’s navigators, alongside being on the command track himself. Kirk,” he says, looking back to Spock, “this is Commander Spock - science and my first officer for this mission.”

Spock turns his attention back to the Lieutenant Commander, nodding in greeting. “Hello, Lieutenant Commander Kirk.”

Lieutenant Commander Kirk has a large smile on his face, confident yet excited. Full of energy as he outstretches a hand to Spock. “Lieutenant Commander is such a mouthful, just Kirk will be fine,” he laughs.

Spock looks at the outstretched hand, but doesn’t take it. “Lieutenant Commander,” he repeats. After a moment, Kirk draws his hand back awkwardly.

Captain Pike turns his smile to look to where he is standing, looking between him and Spock. “So boys, how does it feel being aboard Starfleet’s newest and most advanced ship in the fleet?” Captain Pike asks, raising his other hand to rest onto the shoulder of Kirk.

“Gotta be real with you, Captain, it’s kinda awesome,” Kirk says. “Being assigned to this ship, especially on her maiden voyage, is a dream come true.”

“Good, good, and she’s glad you’re here as well, I’m sure,” the Captain laughs.

Spock turns his neck to look at him, confused. “Excuse my interruption, but may I ask who ‘she’ is referring to, Captain?” he asks, unsure of when a girl had come into the picture. Perhaps from before he stepped onto the bridge; after all, the two men had been talking before he was drawn over to them.

Such a hypothesis, however, doesn’t seem likely as Captain Pike laughs, but before he can say anything, Kirk turns an incredulous face to Spock. “That’s a joke, right? A weird joke, but a joke…?”

A joke. Spock has made no jokes. Matter of fact, he, like all Vulcans, does not make it a habit of joking. He sees no real purpose in it. What he doesn’t see is what he missed indicating that he knows who is happy with the Lieutenant Commander’s being here.

Thankfully, Captain Pike picks up on Spock’s very real and mounting confusion, answering where Kirk will not. “The ship, Commander,” he tells Spock, his hand slipping from his shoulder. “The ship. It’s an expression. It means he’s welcome here as part of the crew.”

A much better answer than the Lieutenant Commander’s. Spock nods in acknowledgement, filing the information away. He is still unsure of the reason the ship is referred to as a “she”, but it seems like extraneous information for now.

And, while Spock is content with his answer, the confusion Spock felt has seemingly transferred to Kirk. “Wait, did he actually not know that?” he asks, looking at Spock with his nose scrunched. An expression often used in distaste. Spock is unsure if he should read it as such. Likely the expression does not hold any ill will, the tone of voice used in posing the question not holding any malice, but Spock is no expert on reading humans and their feelings, however more proficient his experience makes him over other Vulcans.

“I will admit that, due to my upbringing on Vulcan, I am at a disadvantage when it comes to certain aspects regarding humans and their culture, including understanding expressions considered common,” Spock explains. His own ignorance on the topic is not something that brings him embarrassment, especially considering many of such phrases he does not understand are quite illogical.

“Huh,” is the eloquent response that Kirk gives. An interesting contrast to his talkative nature aboard the transport shuttle.

“Well Commander, I’m sure you’ll have a lot of opportunities to learn some new things regarding humans while we’re out here on this mission,” Captain Pike tells him. Nodding, Spock notes that, even as he isn’t smiling anymore, he continues using a voice indicating high levels of amusement.

Admittedly, his last captain had not so openly carried his positive emotions. Spock is unsure of how to feel about Captain Pike’s emotionalism, but as long as it doesn’t impair his work - which his record shows no signs that it has in the past - then he can’t make any complaints.

With some final work to be done aboard the bridge, Spock excuses himself from the conversation. Moments after, Kirk and the Captain also disband. Spock makes his way to his station alongside the outer bridge, keeping an eye on his PADD for any signs of anything going amiss in the final stages of boarding and preparing the starship for takeoff.

As expected, the process goes smoothly, all of the crew coming aboard with no incidents. When engineering sends in the final all-good, Captain Pike calls for all bridge members to report to their stations. Spinning in his seat to get a look at his surroundings, Spock sees two people come onto the bridge before the Captain sits down in the chair behind him.

With the push of a botton bringing all coms online, he talks. “Attention crew of the _USS Enterprise_,” he begins, and everybody on the bridge goes still, eyes glued to the captain’s seat situated in the center of the bridge. “This is Captain Pike speaking. In just a few minutes now, we will be departing from the station, which will mark the beginnings of our five year mission in space.” There’s a brief pause, for what reason Spock is unsure, but after it, the Captain continues on speaking, finishing his own introduction before giving a few specs of the mission that should be common knowledge, and, finally, ending with well wishes to everybody.

All of the bridge crew, save for Spock himself and the Captain, have large smiles on their faces when they turn back to their stations. Spock finds himself looking to the one other semi-familiar face on board, Lieutenant Commander Kirk - or just Kirk, as he said, however Spock is unsure of where the mouthful of his title is - and finds him already tapping a few things onto the screen in front of him.

Thinking back to the transport shuttle, Spock finds that the navigator position is much more suited to him than it would have been to his friend, Lieutenant McCoy, who never did respond to Spock’s attempt at putting the man’s fears at bay. Briefly, he wonders how many other crew members are harbouring a fear of deep space that they won’t voice.

“Mr. Scott, how are we looking down in Engineering?” Captain Pike’s voice drifts across the open bridge.

“Everything is well, Captain,” comes an accented Standard voice over the comm. “She’s ready to depart.”

“Good, good. How are the systems up front looking Sulu?”

“We are ready to go when you are, sir,” comes from the pilot sitting at the front control console.

“Navigations, Kirk?”

“Everything is online and functioning Captain,” Kirk responds, eyes never leaving what’s in front of him.

They’re not preparations per se, not even a real final check. Spock has found it to be more a formality to go around the stations running the ship’s base functions before finally leaving the station, as everything is already assured to be in working order beforehand. Which is why, only a few moments later, Captain Pike has the pilot, an ensign, Sulu, departing from the station.

Spock supposed that the start of a five year mission is something momentous, especially when it’s also apart of the maiden voyage of Starfleet’s newest, most technologically advanced Constitution class flagship. Serving aboard it is, Spock admits, an honour; to an extent, he feels pride in being selected as both the head science officer and first officer for the mission. But, when Ensign Sulu brings them into warp, Spock feels nothing in relation to the action. It will be five years until he will likely find himself with either another position as a professor at the academy, or another assignment aboard a starhip. It will be five years aboard the ship with the same crew, few variances in the few transfers on and off that always occur on such long missions. The thought is not daunting, or anything similar. It is what it is.

➢

Routines, as much as possible on an exploratory mission, form, and Spock watches. In the first two months, bonds form between the crew, and while it appears nobody has taken any outward hostility to another member, obvious groups and friendships sprout.

Lieutenant Commander Kirk and Ensign Sulu work well together, sometimes seen hanging around each even outside of their shifts. This, along with their welcoming of Ensign Uhura, the communications officer who Spock himself was briefly acquainted with back in the academy, the three of them are scheduled to be working on the bridge together. And, due to his previous well connections with Ensign Uhura, Spock also finds himself eating with her after about a month - and subsequently with one or more of the other group, Lieutenant McCoy, a medical officer, often tagging along with Kirk. This starts after Uhura makes the comment on Spock looking “sad” and “alone” when he would sit alone in the mess hall, and, while Spock understands where this might be an impression given off to humans, Spock himself doesn’t share the sentiment. But he doesn’t complain about the company, even when Lieutenant McCoy, or Bones as Kirk calls his apparent close friend from the academy, holds an almost unpleasant attitude.

As the other crew members continue to draw Spock into their social circles during meals, Spock finds that, slowly, he is picking up on more things regarding humans, just like the Captain had said would happen.

Perhaps most curious of them all is in the unique attributes that make up each of the crew members, things that Spock struggles to comprehend just _why_ they are as they are - beyond that it just is how it is, for each individual person. This isn’t a new revelation for Spock. Quite the contrary, this is standard among all humans and races, and he has observed so even amongst his Vulcan peers. Humans simply display these differences more freely, allowing them to stand out more.

➢

The Alpha shift is coming to a close when Kirk approaches Spock. Spock rises from his seat and greets the man with a nod. “Lieutenant Commander.”

“Commander Spock,” Kirk responds, smiling with the small tilt of his head he needs to meet Spock’s eye. Kirk, Spock has come to find out, has a habit of smiling more often than the others aboard the ship, even moreso than Captain Pike, who Spock’s initial observations of was that he had a habit of giving off positive emotions.

This does not mean that Kirk’s aptitude for such things don’t detract from Captain Pike’s. In fact, while the two are quite obvious separate people, they compliment each other in a way that Spock sees to be one of a pseudo-parental way. Off duty, Spock has noticed frequent communications between the two, that which Spock does not pry into. Despite the lack of prying, it is impossible for him to not notice the close relationship between the two.

It is curious, the origin of such a relationship unknown to Spock. However, the lack of hinderance to duty prevents him from taking worry of such a thing.

“Care to join me in the mess hall?” Kirk asks, the two of them walking amiably in their leave of the bridge.

The question is illogical. Spock has made a habit of joining Kirk in eating when both of their schedules allow for it, which is quite common as they find themselves on the same bridge shifts more often than not. Spock does not inform Kirk of the flaw in his question. “That would be agreeable, Lieutenant Commander.”

“_Jim_, Mr. Spock,” Kirk pushes, something he’s been working for for the past seventeen days. “Or, at the very least, Kirk. Something other than Lieutenant Commander. I told you it the first time, the title is such a mouthful.”

“And yet it is your title,” Spock informs him, just as he has been telling him for the past two months. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he can hear his mother talking about stubbornness. As Kirk shows, stubbornness is a rather human trait and is not something Spock would attribute to himself. A steadfast hold in followings of logic and regulation isn’t stubbornness.

“And yet, Spock, we’re off duty,” Kirk argues back, the turbolift door sliding shut behind them after they step inside. “Off duty means that you have no need to be touting around those big words for no reason.” Spock opens his mouth to respond, to tell Kirk that there is a reason he is using his given rank, but Kirk beats him to the chase, putting a hand up to stop the answer. “No made up reason will be good enough, Spock. We’ve been talking for two months, and you still call me Lieutenant Commander, like, ninety-nine percent of the time, somewhere around there you know. All those other times are all like, ‘Lieutenant Commander Kirk’, or something, which is still with the whole ‘Lieutenant Commander’ thing. Funny considering all the people who call you ‘Mr. Spock’, and ye-”

“James,” Spock eventually says, finding no other way to stop the string of unnecessary words coming from Kirk’s mouth. Why he chose ‘James’ over the offered ‘Kirk’, Spock will decide later, but it does the job, the other man’s speech coming to a stop as they take a step into the mess hall.

“That works too,” _James_ says with a smile. “Though, it is a bit formal. Most people really don’t call me James, they call me Jim.” James also has a habit of talking a lot more than necessary, which again prenotes to nervousness, something Spock picked up on back on the first transport shuttle to the docking station. Spock has yet to find any sources for such nerves.

“I believe the phrase is, ‘I am not most people’,” Spock offers.

“You sure aren’t, Spock,” James says, punching something into the replicator. After he pulls out a sandwich of some kind, Spock replaces where he stood, putting in his own set for food.

After grabbing their food, the two sit at a table that nobody joins them at, talking - more, James talks, and Spock listens, interjecting a few times when he deems necessary. It is all part of the routine that has taken a hold. Normally, Spock would say that he’s indifferent to the actions, but even he will admit that he is starting to become used to the company that surrounds him on the ship, different than that which he found at the university, different than even that which he had on his first deep space mission, where many of the crew kept their distance. The change is far from unwelcome.

When Spock finishes his food, he rises, ready to get rid of his dish. James stops him before he can leave, however, a hand quickly going for his wrist. “Hey wait,” he starts, getting Spock to turn his attention back to the man who he just spent the past twenty minutes listening to. He isn’t sure what more there is to say at this point. “So Uhura, she says you play chess.” Spock nods in affirmation. “Do you maybe want to meet me down in the rec room later tonight, play a round? I used to be captain of the chess team back in high school, you know. And the best in the club in the academy.”

James T. Kirk talks a lot more than other humans do, more than just what nerves would bring, Spock thinks. Every time they’re off duty together, words spill from his mouth, which means, unless James is constantly nervous, the excessive talking is not from nerves. But Kirk is all smiles and confidence where Spock can see. It is, Spock decides a quirk of his.

More pressing at the moment, is the chess. The offer is a new one, but not unwelcome. “That would be acceptable,” Spock says without much thought, already knowing his schedule is free outside of shift work.

“Great! See you there around, what… 2000? That work for you?”

“2000 works well for me if it does for you,” Spock answers.

James laughs, eyes bright while standing up. “Great, great, see you later!” He claps Spock on the shoulder and walks off before Spock can make to turn away first, leaving him standing alone in the slowly clearing mess hall.

Plans made for later in the evening, Spock disposes of his plate before making his way down to one of the ship’s labs. He himself isn’t working on anything explicit at the moment, more overseeing other science officers in their work, joining in if he so wishes or if he sees pointed errors in what they’re doing. As the ship is not inherently a science vessel, not much is reserved specifically for their department initially. While well staffed and given much space on the ship, it won’t be until the exploratory part of their mission starts coming to play that his people will be busy. As the first few runs the Enterprise has gone on so far was in aiding vessels in need, there’s a slight buzz of tension among the officers, waiting for new worlds to explore in their own way, different than that which most initial landing parties look at.

Through the excitement, amplified by the _Enterprise_ finally approaching a new system, the crew continues to work well. Spock is pleased with the results they give in their work, satisfied in their ethic as they work quietly and efficiently.

Spock stays in the labs for ninety-six minutes before clocking out and returning to his quarters. While he isn’t feeling anticipation, entirely, he is almost looking forward to his chess match with James. After being around him for two months, Spock is very aware of the man’s intellect, no matter how illogical he often acts, and as such, Spock is curious to see if he will prove to be a formidable opponent. He boasts being captain of chess teams and clubs, however, no non-Vulcan, save for his own mother, has ever bested him in a match.

At 1948, Spock exits his room, heading to the turbolift. Not many off duty people are walking around, likely already in either the rec room, their own quarters, with friends, or the mess hall. It makes for quick travel, allowing him to arrive in the rec room himself in a timely manner.

Before James.

Spock hadn’t been under any impression that James would or would not be there. There is no surprise when he walks into the rec room and James is not sitting there. In his absence, Spock works to set up the chess set on a smaller table in the corner of the room. When done, he sits in one of the two chairs for the table, waiting.

Come 2000, Spock is still without his intended playing partner. 

Patiently, he waits. It takes seven minutes for James to finally arrive, stride long as he hurries into the room, quickly followed by Ensign Sulu. The two split off after a small goodbye, James throwing the Ensign a smile. When looks up, he spots Spock. With a small wave of the hand, acknowledgment of his presence, Spock thinks, James walks over to the table, sitting down heavily across from him.

“Sorry for being a little late, I got caught up with Sulu,” James says before anything. He looks and sounds a little tired. Spock looks over to where Sulu is and notes him in a similar state. Before any speculations can be made, James continues talking. “Did you know he fences? Because he does, and he’s pretty damn good at it.”

“I was not aware of such skills, no,” Spock says.

“I was asking him to teach me- well, more, I asked him to teach me last month, so he’s been, you know, teaching me. It’s a lot of work.”

Once more, the overtalking. Spock twitches his eyebrow minisculely. It is nothing short of fascinating to him, the way James has a tendency to go on about things. Perhaps, with his extensive knowledge, he would make a good lecturer, at the academy or otherwise. He’s animated and gets along well with others as far as Spock has seen, portraying many characteristics oftentimes found attractive to others. 

Even better than a lecturer, James T. Kirk would make an excellent captain.

“You are on the command track, am I correct?” He’s never been told such directly, but James does have the ambition. It would be more surprising if he wasn’t looking to someday make captain - and also, Spock thinks, if James didn’t have his eyes on captaincy, it would be a shame for Starfleet to lose what would be incredible talent.

At the question, James’ eyes widen. Surprise, Spock thinks. “Uh, yeah, actually,” he starts. And there’s that small smile again. “I’d say don’t tell Pike, but he already knows - I have my eyes on the Enterprise. I know it’s asking a lot to be given it some day, after him, but it’s been my dream to captain her since they first announced the ship. Being assigned here was really a dream come true. Serving under him…. Well, he’s a great guy, a great captain, you already know that.”

“Indeed,” Spock agrees. It isn’t entirely conversational formality, either. Captain Pike does very well as a captain, and Spock enjoys serving under him.

The smile falls after a moment, James’s pulling his hands into his lap under the table. “Well, we’re here to play chess, not talk about my dreams,” he says awkwardly, face twisting into an expression Spock can’t read. “You have the first move.”

While confused, Spock doesn’t say anything, instead making his first move on the board.

Spock didn’t come into the game with many expectations. He figured, in some way, that James would be a formidable opponent, at least compared to others he’s played. But without enough information, Spock wasn’t going to assume a long, short, challenging, or easy game. This doesn’t keep him from feeling mild surprise in the way the game drags on, going past the hour mark with little talking.

Even more surprise comes when, right after sacrificing his queen, James declares checkmate, grabbing Spock’s king from the board.

With nothing else coming to mind, all Spock can say is, “Impressive.”

“I told you I’m good at chess!” James exclaims with a laugh. “And the human beats the Vulcan at the strategy game.

Indeed. “You play quite… illogically,” Spock says, drawing his eyebrows together. And he means the words. The entire game, James played quite unpredictably, rarely making a move that Spock had anticipated. Unable to predict moves led Spock to play blindly as well quite early into the game.

“But I win, a lot, so…” He has a point. Perhaps the illogical playing was more logical than initially thought. In the end, James did best him, and many others.

“Hey, so this was really fun,” James says, smile dwindling, but not all disappearing. “Do you maybe want to like, do this again next week or something? If not, I totally understand. You’re probably really busy just, well, just being you and everything. I don’t want to impose or any-”

“Next week would be agreeable,” Spock cuts in. Again. This is twice in one day that he has had to end James’ talking.

He almost apologizes, but before he can, James’ face lights up quite spectacularly. “Great! Yeah, next week, same day and time?” Spock nods in agreement, starting to put the set back away. “Great, okay, let me help you with that.”

James helps Spock with the rest of cleaning up, silent as he was during the game itself.

When done, James starts to walk away before turning back momentarily. “Uh, thanks, for this. It was fun. Well, I already said that, but it’s true, so I guess it’s okay. It was fun. So, I guess I’ll be seeing you tomorrow on the bridge, Commander Spock. Goodnight.”

While the sentiment is not one shared among Vulcans, Spock finds himself returning it. “Goodnight, James,” he says after James.

Spock waits a few minutes before returning to his quarters, alone. Along the walk, he doesn’t think much of anything outside of running over a few numbers from the labs in his head. He nods at Ensign Uhura when he passes her in the hallway, but doesn’t allow himself to be caught up by anybody.

Almost as soon as he’s back in the safety of his own room, Spock finds himself thinking of James - and the fact that he is calling him James. Not the familiar Jim that so often Lieutenant McCoy - and even Captain Pike at times - will say, nor is it the more logical Kirk that is said by most others who don’t frequent his time. Thinking about it, he hasn’t heard him called ‘James’ since Pike introduced him to Spock on the bridge. But Spock finds that’s almost why he likes it. It’s fitting - different, just like James is different.

The sentiment is wholly illogical, Spock thinks. However, declining a position in the Vulcan Science Academy and joining Starfleet could also be argued as illogical. And yet, with these illogical happenings, Spock is here now, serving aboard the _USS Enterprise_ as first officer and science officer, positions that he looks upon with high regard, an outcome he is pleased with. Illogical does not always have to have negative connotations to it, Spock thinks. James is just another example of this.

Why there’s even such a fixation on the Lieutenant Commander, Spock cannot answer. Besides being starkly human, there is not anything particular that would set him apart from his other crewmates, who largely consist of other humans. There is no reason that Spock should linger on thoughts of his smiling or habit of overtalking - surely if he were to go looking, it would not be hard to find another with such characteristics aboard the ship. In fact, Spock has already raised to himself the uncanny similarities in persons between James and Captain Pike, but Spock has far less interest in Captain Pike as he has in James.

It is most curious.

It is what lingers when Spock meditates, a question he seeks to answer.

➢

The following week passes with “business as usual”, a phrase Spock heard on his last ship assignment, while he was conducting courses at the academy, and now upon the _Enterprise_. Even as the whole ship seems to be sparked to life with an approaching new system, arrival set for two days from now, tasks are still carried out with optimal efficiency, despite few people being immune to the growing excitement in the atmosphere, the energy palpable in the air. Crew morale is high.

Spock notes, as the week progresses, that James is not one of those exempt from the effect. Silence on the bridge doesn’t hold for long before he fills the space with what can’t be easily described as anything other than pointless babbling to whoever is at the helm with him - normally Ensign Sulu. Shared meals often came with similar results in between eating, James keeping big smiles on his face, very animated in his excitement for approaching a new planet system.

And he’s very excited, unlike Dr. McCoy, who seems more exasperated than anything .

“Bones, I don’t get it! We’re coming upon a previously unexplored planetary system,” James presses at lunch, shoving a fry into his mouth, which only causes McCoy to frown even more. “Lighten up. What’s not to be excited about?”

“The fact that we’re coming upon a previously unexplored planetary system,” Dr. McCoy grumbles, sending a rather scathing glare and James’ plate. “And stop eating that shit, damn it!”

This time, James slowly picks up two fries, pointedly looking into the Doctor’s eyes as he eats them slowly. Beside him, Sulu rolls his eyes. “Man, Bones, this is why I joined Starfleet - what being on the _Enterprise_ is all about! I don’t get how you can’t be excited about this. Like, pretty much everyone else is while you’re walking around like a little grouch.”

“You really hate me, that has to be it.” Dr. McCoy pulls James’ plate towards himself before James can grab another fry. “I don’t see Commander Spock vibrating with excitement.”

“Vulcans do not feel excitement, Doctor,” Spock says, drawing his eyebrows together. “Nor do we vibrate.” Nor do humans…. “Doctor, if there are people aboard the ship vibrating, you might consider a problem - perhaps an illness is spreading.”

McCoy’s eyes widen, and Spock thinks his face may be turning red, his mouth opening. James doesn’t give him a chance to say anything before he’s laughing, causing McCoy to turn his head to him, confused. “It’s another expression, Spock,” James explains. “It just means, well, that someone is really excited. They’re vibrating with excitement, cuz they’re so excited.”

An interesting phrase, though not the hardest to understand. “I see,” Spock says with a single nod.

“Oh, yeah. Great. Damn Vulcan goes and insults my medical practice with his whole ‘perhaps you should consider a problem’, but that’s okay.”

“Relax, Bones, he was just joking,” James says, reaching across the table to take one last fry from the plate that McCoy confiscated from him, only earning an even biggest scowl in response. While James carried on his talkative tendency that Spock noticed that first day on the transport shuttle, McCoy likewise can normally be found with an unpleasant mood. Spock would perhaps report it if others around him didn’t seem to find amusement in it - and, after looking into his file, his background in medical xenobiology and apparent skill in surgery makes him quite the asset aboard the flagship, “grouch” or not.

Everyone finishes what’s left of their food in relative peace, James finding something else to talk about that doesn’t antagonize his doctor friend. Spock, not for the first time, thinks that, perhaps, the relationships he has started to form with these crewmembers will make this five year mission more amiable than his last assignment - not that it’s much of importance to him. Either way, he would do his job with utmost efficiency, regular acquaintances or not, no matter the starship.

“Hey Spock,” James says after half standing. “We’re still on for tonight, right?”

‘On for tonight’ meaning still set to play chess. “Yes, at 2000,” Spock confirms.

“Great! See you then!” Without leaving room for any more words, James is gone, leaving his plate with Mccoy.

Spock leaves soon after for his scheduled shift in the labs, however he takes his own plate instead of piling it onto the Doctor before exiting.

The work is rhythmic: running tests, recording data, analyzing data, recording analysis, repeat. He works until 1830, absorbed in numbers and words, PADD saving any who want to look over his results from his admittedly scratchy Standard handwriting - logic prevents any sort of self-consciousness on the lack of perfection, as he did grow up on Vulcan, writing Vulcan even as he learned other languages.

He enters the hallway alone, door sliding near silent behind him. However, he only takes a few steps - seven to be precise - before James is at his side with no immediate words. Curious, as his duties shouldn’t bring him anywhere near the science labs, but Spock doesn’t question, sure the explanation will come on its own. And it does right before they reach the turbolift.

“Hey, so, something came up, kinda,” James says, turning to Spock before they enter. “Would it be possible to move playing chess? Just to like, 2045? My quarters? If not, that’s totally okay. Like, obviously, you have your own life and plans, so I really wouldn’t be offended if it doesn’t work for you.”

“My schedule for the evening, beyond plans with you, is free. The adjustment does not interfere with myself, James,” Spock says slowly, looking to not spark any more from him.

James pushes for the lift with a small smile. “Sweet, thanks. I’ll message you where it is later.” James departs at engineering, leaving Spock to return to his quarters room alone, nobody else being picked up in the lift along the way.

Now with two hours until his game with James, Spock finds a larger than intended gap in his time. His first thought is to go to the rec room after eating, but without the promise of James’ eventual presence, he finds no push to go there, sitting around and wasting time not high up on his list of things to do. Which is why, while he’s eating, his eyes are drawn to the lyre setting to the side of his room, one of his personal belongings he’s taken onto the ship. Spock hasn’t actively played the lyre in a long while, the time not always coming to him. Now, there is time.

When he’s done eating and cleaning his hands, Spock pulls the lyre from its resting place and sits in the chair at his desk. While it’s not a completely unfamiliar feeling in his hands, the memory of it is distant, months without playing apparent in the hesitant few chords he strums.

The notes are known, hand placements marked in eidetic memory, but knowing what to do fails to perfectly translate into the soft, smooth notes that those skilled at the instrument can produce. It’s a shame, in its own way. Not even Vulcans would claim the enjoyment of music such as the lyre, and many other forms of music, produced as illogical. Spock almost misses that which he commonly heard in his childhood and teenage years, even as ill-natured as they were.

Perhaps another, more personal mission while aboard this ship will be to acquaint himself with the instrument. It would be a rather constructive way to fill gaps of free time.

The next hour and a half is filled with nonsensical notes, fingers moving awkwardly in adjustments and readjustments, refinding positions and transitions that will take more than just this time to improve and make consistent. It’s repetitive, grounding in a way, concentrating only on the melodic sounds and finger placements.

At 2030, Spock stops, gently placing his lyre back in its place so that he can get ready to leave, with what little there really is to be done. On that list, however, is checking his PADD, where there is indeed a message from James detailing where his quarters are, sent ninety-three minutes before. James also includes in the message an assurance that he has his own chess set and that he is “not just planning on dumping some paint atop his head when he comes through the door”, the former something Spock admittedly had not considered; there was of course, the thought, that James inviting him to his quarters for chess implied he had his own chess set, as he had not previously asked Spock to provide one. The latter part of the message was confusing, but as were many things said by James. T. Kirk. But for as odd as James is, he thinks to know him well enough to not assault a fellow officer, a superior officer, with paint aboard a Starship.

Five minutes before he’s set to arrive, Spock leaves his room, straightening his blue Science shirt as he walks through the door. Both of them being higher ranking officers allows for their quarters to be in closer proximity than would be if James were even just a Lieutenant. This allows for Spock to be arriving in front of the James’ door in under two minutes. He pushes the com button on the keypad outside the door, and when there isn’t an immediate answer, Spock is suddenly brought back to James’ rather late entrance to the rec room last week.

Surely, with invitations to his own quarters, James would not be late to his own appointment.

After a minute, Spock calls again, this time speaking with the open line. “Lieutenant Commander, Kirk-”

Before he can finish, the door is sliding open, the muffled sound of James ordering it so coming from another room section. When Spock walks into the quarters, back straight, he’s greeted with James coming from the bathroom, hair wet and his outer shirt missing. “I did not mean to interrupt you, James,” Spock apologizes quickly, taking in the organized quarters of the Lieutenant Commander. The only thing he can think to perhaps be out of place is a book, resting half open the table next to his bed.

James waves a hand dismissively. “I was already done with everything, Spock, you didn’t interrupt anything,” he assures, going over to a set of drawers and opening one, presumably to grab the chess set. “Last second decided you probably wouldn’t be too happy playing chess with me smelling how I was. Scotty, bless his soul, had no issues with informing me that I smelled like shit - well, I believe his words were that I reeked like the whole of his men after some time in the gym, which was really was a nicer way to break it to me that I smelled like shit, but it all means the same. I didn’t want to assault your nose.”

Unsure of what else to say, Spock thanks James for the thought.

After a few moments, James comes over to the desk in his room, pushing a PADD to the side to place his chess set alongside a small container holding the game pieces. Spock walks over to it as well and sits in the chair opposite to where James is standing. He watches, silent, as James sets the pieces on the board, careful in their placements.

James moves first this game. While twenty moves in, his playing shows to be just as illogical as before, perhaps erratic in nature, he moves the pieces gently, just as he did while setting up the board. There are no obvious patterns to what he does, but he still manages to play with the grace of respected players. It reminds Spock that, despite his lack of easily followed moves, he bested Spock in their first match, and that he boasts many other titles in regards to the game.

Spock thinks the game will be played in silence, preceding their previous game, but James breaks it after a little while, picking up a knight and lifting his head to look at Spock, a conflicted look on his face. “We’re friends, right Spock?” he asks, eyebrows drawn together as his eyes flick back to the board.

It’s a curious question, one Spock has not considered. He can’t say he knows the exact answer to the question. “I do not see why we would not be,” Spock replies, unsure. But as the words leave his mouth, he thinks it’s the correct answer. Spock often times eats meals with James and is now playing chess with him. While Spock is not too well versed in friendship, he believes that the forming relationship between them would be defined as such.

James nods his head, though he still seems unsure. “Alright,” he says, finally placing his knight. “I think you’re my friend. I guess I just wasn’t sure if you felt the same way. Like, I know the whole, Vulcans don’t feel things, but. You know.” Spock thinks he knows. “But….yeah. I mean, I asked Bones, and he got a little flustered about why I was asking him and then went on a rant about how you wouldn’t think we’re friends, but I couldn’t believe that. So… we’re friends, then?”

“Yes, James, we are friends.” This time, Spock is more sure of the statement as he moves his bishop across the board. “Check.”

James smiles, taking the bishop. And for the rest of the game, the smile doesn’t leave, even when Spock declares checkmate.

“I guess I can’t say I’ve been undefeated since sixteen anymore,” James laughs, knocking his own king over. “You challenge me, I like that.”

“Indeed, you pose a challenge at the game to me as well,” Spock says.

They both start collecting their respective pieces and lining them up off the board, readying them to be put away. “That’s why we can make good friends, I think,” James says suddenly, nodding to himself. “We challenge each other. That’s good. I think. Well, we both like chess, so shared interest. And we challenge each other at it, so that’s good. Like, Sulu and I, we have fencing, and you and I? We have chess.”

While he doesn’t say so, Spock agrees with the statement. He also thinks to James’ insistent need to talk, whereas Spock, like most all Vulcans, conserves his words, and the phrase “opposites attract” comes to mind.

Spock doesn’t linger in James’ room for long after everything is put away, bidding the man a goodnight before taking his leave.

When back in his quarters, alone, Spock is once again left to think about James - more specifically, the friendship that he said they had. While he meant it when he said they were friends, the very concept of friendship with James had been foreign to him until it was brought up. But, looking on their interactions, past and present, there is no other word that he can place on it. Admittedly, he enjoys the company of James, even if he has a tendency to talk so much. In a way, as illogical as it is, he enjoys the way he talks more than necessary, rarely expectin much back from Spock after being told bluntly that Spock does not find any need to talk and share in such an excessive manner.

Spock again remembers his first mission. Of course he knew the crew - he knew their names, their positions - but he never would have never considered any of them his friends. He likely was considered a “loner” as humans so aptly say. It did not bother him; it still doesn’t, no reason to have made friends apparent. Here aboard the _Enterprise_ is different though. While Vulcans are not ones to think in hypotheticals, Spock thinks, had the five year mission ended and he denied a friendship with James, he would be missing something. Likely, he would be unaware that there was anything he had missed.

He is unsure of what to think of this revelation. He is even more unsure about why the idea, such a hypothetical, leaves him feeling an unknown, distant emotion.

The next morning, when Spock sees James on the bridge for Alpha shift, nodding in greeting, the word “friend” lingers in the back of his mind, and doesn’t leave. It is not a distraction, necessarily, his work fluid, but it is unusual. Never before has Spock been caught up on another like this, especially not somebody that he has not even known for three months. Never before has the concept of friendship plagued him.

For lack of a better word, Spock finds himself with a mild fixation with one Lieutenant Commander James Tiberius Kirk.

Perhaps what is really troubling is, as the thought crosses his mind, what does momentarily stop his actions is shock in regards to an insistent voice remarking on titles and names being a mouthful. Perhaps if he were human, the one thought that can brought up to the occurence - fascinating, as it is in its own way - would not have been contained to himself.


End file.
